While you all have been sittin’ around talking about heterosexual football coaches or something, I’ve been not posting. I started composing this masterpiece during SNL commercials but at 12:30 I collapsed in front of the telly. I realize that it’s Sunday now, and I am sorry for that, but I’ve got some pretty good excuses. Now, let’s get some comprehension all over the place, shall we?
THURSDAY: A group I was in presented the implementation of green roofs to the County School Board. Translation: I did all the work while four other people sat around listening to Thrift Shop-all of whom, by the way, were simply there for the extra points they would get in science class-and then my name disappeared in the credits slide like a kid at a funnel cake stand in Disneyworld.
Not that I’m bitter or anything.
A bit before 7 pm, we set out to the Ed Center. My teacher said specifically that the building was on North Quincy Street. I tapped the address in to our GPS. Ten minutes later, the lady who lives inside my car screamed that we’re on South Quincy Street and the destination is to our left. Oops. So I typed in North Quincy and we arrived in a shabby parking lot outside an elegant building. The whole thing was quite formal. These sailor guys with fancy white hats marched with some square fabric with star and stripe patterns on it and slammed the fabric on the ground and we all did a self-check for breast cancer while reciting some words about America or something. The slideshow I worked on played through on a huge screen and we presented. I left after that and had a jazz square race in the hallway. Thus we move toward
FRIDAY: I got up too late-5 am. Within five minutes we were ready to go. Turns out there’s minimal traffic at 5 in the morning. By five-thirty I was on the charter bus, and, being a chaperone, my mom helped load cellos and violins in the storage compartments under the bus. Weirdly enough, the bus ride was centered around the pathetic toilet at the back. The lock didn’t work. We pressed against the door when people were inside while they tried to escape. I broke the curtains in a game of hide and seek.
All of the music groups from my school went-the Concert and Philharmonic Orchestras(that would be me), the Concert and Symphonic Bands, and the Chorus. But before moving further I must explain that there is a girl in orchestra, a girl who plays bass. I have had an ongoing rivalry with her, because, hmm, I dunno, she’s a whackjob and happens to be evil? Once, my friend and I were sitting on some bass stools. This girl(who shall be referred to as Jane Doe)comes up to us and says, with the same awful look Ann Coulter gives when she thinks she’s being smart, “Where the heck am I supposed to sit, huh?” My friend and I rolled our eyes. “Yeah, uh, this is my seat. MOVE!” So we got up. I mimicked her to my friends, and ever since then they’ve joked and called her my best friend. On the bus, I passed through the aisle and she called out, “Um, could you try not stepping on my feet?” Kay, moving on-
And then we got there: Central Dauphin High School, Dauphin, Pennsylvania. If it were a normal Friday, I’d be half-heartedly listening to my math teacher. But instead I took my violin out of its case. Before performing, we got a bathroom break inside the school. A friend of mine coughed quietly, about three yards away from and with his back to Jane Doe. Jane said, “Yeah, thanks for COUGHING IN MY FACE.” And a lot of other nasty things, but my memory is fleeting. Anywho, we got on the auditorium’s stage and played three songs. The last of which sucked so much that I wanted to punch each member of the orchestra for messing up on a song we’ve played since SEPTEMBER. The panel of judges scribbled on their notepads and then we ran for it to-
Not much to say, to be honest. Rollercoasters and junk food, I suppose. I got a shirt that says Keep Calm and Ride On-a variation of the megapopular “Keep Calm and Carry On” franchise, originally a propaganda poster in World War II. This makes me trendy, I suppose, but my status as a nonconformist hipster was restored when, upon arrival at the school at 10:30, I did more jazz squares toward my Volkswagen. I went to bed late and didn’t get enough sleep to wake up on time on
SATURDAY: The day of my mother’s swearing in to become an American citizen. Out the door at 7-ish. We drove far, all the way to Dominion High School. It was ridiculously unorganized. Hey, I became a citizen too. Looky there.
In the words of one Jane Doe, “Happy now?”